The morning sun cast long shadows across the scarred battlefield, its golden light doing nothing to warm the chill that had settled over the survivors. Three days had passed since Vegeta's escape, three days since the Prince of all Saiyans had claimed his final, spiteful victory even in defeat.
Sage sat motionless beside the crater where Piccolo had fallen, his violet eyes staring at the scorched earth that was all that remained of the Namekian warrior. His transformation had long since faded, leaving him looking like what he truly was—a twenty-year-old who had seen too much death, caused too much pain.
The cruel irony hadn't escaped him. When Piccolo died, Kami—the other half of the Namekian's soul—had died as well. The Dragon Balls, Earth's greatest hope for undoing tragedy, had turned to stone the moment their creator's life force faded. Seven magical orbs that could grant any wish had become nothing more than decorative rocks, useless as the lives they could no longer restore.
"You should eat something," Bulma said softly, approaching with a tray of food from the Capsule Corp supply drop. Her usual vibrancy was muted, replaced by the hollow exhaustion they all shared. "You haven't moved in six hours."
Sage didn't respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "He saved Gohan's life. Used his own body as a shield because I... because I wasn't strong enough to stop Vegeta's final attack."
"None of us were," Krillin said, limping over with his arm in a makeshift sling. The small monk's face was etched with grief. "Tien and Chiaotzu... they didn't even have a chance to react. One second they were there, the next..."
He couldn't finish the sentence. None of them could.
From the medical tent fifty yards away, they could hear Dr. Brief's concerned murmur as he monitored Goku's condition. The hero of Earth lay unconscious, his body still recovering from the devastating strain of Kaioken times five. Every bone had been fractured, every muscle torn. That he was alive at all was a miracle.
The sound of approaching footsteps made them all turn. Chi-Chi emerged from behind a rocky outcropping, her face pale and drawn with exhaustion. She'd been traveling for two days straight after receiving Bulma's emergency message, and the toll was visible in every line of her body.
"Where is he?" she asked, her voice cracking with barely contained emotion. "Where's my husband? Where's my son?"
Bulma stood quickly, intercepting Chi-Chi before she could see the full extent of the battlefield's devastation. "They're both alive, Chi-Chi. Goku is in the medical tent, and Gohan is with him. But I need to prepare you for what you're about to see."
Chi-Chi's eyes darted frantically across the scarred landscape, taking in the massive craters, the scorched earth, the lingering smell of ozone and burned metal. "What happened here? Your message said there was a battle, but this... this looks like a war zone."
"It was," Sage said quietly, standing from his vigil. "Two Saiyans came to Earth. They wanted to recruit Goku to help them destroy planets. When he refused..." He gestured at the devastation around them. "This was the result."
Chi-Chi's face went white. "Saiyans? But Goku is—"
"A Saiyan too," Sage confirmed. "As am I. As is Gohan." He met her terrified gaze directly. "Your son saved all of us, Chi-Chi. He fought and defeated the Prince of all Saiyans. But the cost..."
His voice trailed off as he looked back at the crater where Piccolo had fallen.
"The cost was three lives," Krillin finished heavily. "Piccolo, Tien, and Chiaotzu. They died protecting us, protecting the Earth."
Chi-Chi swayed on her feet, the enormity of it hitting her all at once. Her five-year-old son—her baby—had fought alien warriors to save the planet. Her husband lay broken in a medical tent. Three of their friends were dead.
"I need to see them," she said, her voice gaining strength through sheer maternal determination. "I need to see my family."
Inside the medical tent, the reunion was both heartbreaking and beautiful. Chi-Chi knelt beside Goku's bed, her hands hovering over his bandaged form as if afraid to touch him and cause more damage. Gohan sat cross-legged beside his father, his small hands folded in his lap as he maintained a vigil that broke everyone's hearts.
"Mama?" Gohan's voice was small, uncertain. The confident warrior who had defeated Vegeta was gone, replaced by a traumatized child who had lost his mentor and protector.
Chi-Chi's composure finally cracked. She gathered her son into her arms, holding him close as tears streamed down her face. "Oh, Gohan. My brave, brave boy. I'm so sorry I wasn't here."
"It's okay, Mama," Gohan whispered against her shoulder. "I protected Daddy, just like you taught me to. But Mr. Piccolo... he protected me, and now he's gone."
From the bed, Goku's eyes fluttered open. Despite his injuries, he managed a weak smile when he saw his wife. "Chi-Chi... you came."
"Of course I came, you fool," she said, trying to sound angry but failing completely. "When Bulma's message said you were hurt, I dropped everything and ran. What were you thinking, fighting aliens? What were you thinking, letting our son fight?"
"I tried to stop him," Goku said weakly. "But he... Chi-Chi, you should have seen him. He was incredible. Strong and brave and... he saved everyone."
Chi-Chi looked between her husband and son, seeing the pride in Goku's eyes and the exhaustion in Gohan's. Her maternal instincts warred with the growing realization that her family was part of something far bigger than she'd ever imagined.
"Sage," came Goku's voice, addressing the young Saiyan who had remained respectfully at the tent's entrance. "Come here."
The young Saiyan approached slowly, his body still protesting from three days of motionless vigil. Inside the tent, Goku's condition was even worse than he'd imagined. The man who had arrived like a crimson comet to save them all looked fragile, mortal.
"I heard what happened," Goku said, his voice barely audible. "Piccolo... Tien... Chiaotzu..."
"It's my fault," Sage said immediately, the words that had been burning in his chest for three days finally escaping. "If I hadn't interfered with Raditz, you wouldn't have died. If I had been stronger against Vegeta, if I had pushed my transformation further—"
"Stop." Despite his weakness, Goku's voice carried absolute authority. "I've made the same mistakes, blamed myself for deaths I couldn't prevent. It's not your fault, Sage. We all did everything we could."
Chi-Chi studied this young man who claimed to be the same species as her husband and son. He was tall and lean, with the build of someone who had trained obsessively for years. But his eyes... his eyes held a depth of pain that reminded her of war veterans she'd known in her youth.
"You're the one who taught my son to fight," she said. It wasn't a question.
Sage met her gaze directly. "I taught him techniques. I taught him about Saiyan heritage. But his courage, his determination to protect others—that came from you and Goku. I just... I just helped him understand what he was capable of."
Gohan looked up from his mother's embrace, his young eyes bright with unshed tears. "Mr. Piccolo said something before... before he..." The child's voice caught. "He said he was proud to fight beside daddy. Do you think he was proud of me too?"
The question hit Sage like a physical blow. Here was this child, this incredible boy who had saved them all, asking if the man who died protecting him was proud. The Saiyan warrior who had spent years drowning in guilt and self-hatred suddenly saw his own pain reflected in a five-year-old's eyes.
"Gohan," Sage said, kneeling beside the boy's chair. "Piccolo didn't just die protecting you. He chose to die protecting you. That's not something you do for someone you're not proud of. That's something you do for someone you..." He paused, the words strange on his tongue. "Someone you love like family."
Chi-Chi's eyes widened as she processed this. The green man who had kidnapped her son, who had trained him to fight, had died protecting him. The complexity of emotions that realization brought was almost overwhelming.
Bulma appeared in the tent doorway, her expression urgent but carefully controlled in deference to the family reunion. "Guys, you need to hear this. I've been analyzing the recordings from the scouters we salvaged, and I found something important."
She activated a small device, and Vegeta's voice filled the tent—a recording from the battle, when he'd been explaining Saiyan history to taunt them.
"...the Namekians created the Dragon Balls originally. That green freak was from Namek, which means somewhere out there, there's another set of Dragon Balls that could—"
Bulma cut off the recording. "Don't you see? If Piccolo was from Namek, and the Namekians created the original Dragon Balls, then there might be another set on their home planet! We could bring everyone back!"
The tent fell silent except for the sound of Goku's labored breathing. Hope—an emotion none of them had dared feel for three days—began to flicker in their hearts.
Chi-Chi was the first to break the silence. "You're talking about traveling to another planet. To an alien world. To bring back the dead." Her voice wasn't accusatory, just stunned by the impossibility of it all.
"But how would we even get there?" Krillin asked, entering the tent with Dr. Brief. "It's not like we have a spaceship that can travel between planets."
"Actually," Dr. Brief said, consulting his notes, "we do. The Saiyan attack pods that Vegeta and his partner used—I've been studying them. With some modifications and Bulma's technical expertise, we could potentially reverse-engineer the navigation systems."
Sage's mind raced through the implications. Somewhere in the depths of his memory, fragments of his father's warnings about Frieza surfaced. The destroyer of worlds, the tyrant who had wiped out their entire race. If such a being learned about the Dragon Balls...
But he kept those thoughts to himself. The others didn't need to know about that particular nightmare yet. They had enough to worry about.
"The journey would be dangerous," Sage said carefully. "Traveling through space, landing on an alien world, finding the Dragon Balls among an entire planet's population... and that's assuming the Namekians are friendly."
"They have to be," Gohan said with childlike certainty. "Mr. Piccolo was good. He was mean sometimes, but he was good. If he came from Namek, then the people there must be good too."
Chi-Chi looked at her son, seeing the determination in his young eyes. "Gohan, you can't be serious about this. You're five years old. You can't travel to another planet."
"I'm not just five years old, Mama," Gohan said, and for a moment he sounded far older than his years. "I'm a Saiyan. And Saiyans protect their friends."
The words hit both adult Saiyans like lightning. Here was this half-human child, speaking truths about their heritage that neither of them had fully grasped. Not the pride of conquest or the drive for battle, but the fundamental core of what it meant to be a warrior—protecting those who mattered.
Chi-Chi's face cycled through a dozen emotions—fear, pride, anger, resignation. Finally, she looked at her husband, seeking guidance from the man who had led their family into this impossible situation.
"Goku?" she asked quietly. "What do you think?"
Goku's response took several long moments. When he finally spoke, his voice was heavy with the weight of parenthood and leadership. "I think... I think Gohan is right. About being a Saiyan, about protecting friends. But I also think he's still a child who needs his parents."
He paused, gathering strength for what he knew would be a difficult conversation. "Chi-Chi, I can't go. Not for months, maybe longer. My body... it's going to take time to heal from what the Kaioken did to me. But Gohan, Sage, Krillin... they're strong enough to make this journey. And they're going to need each other."
"The boy's right," Sage said quietly. "And... he's probably stronger than I am, even without transforming. If we're going to face whatever's waiting on Namek, we'll need every advantage we can get."
Krillin cleared his throat. "Count me in too. I can't let my friends stay dead because I was too scared to help."
Chi-Chi stood slowly, her maternal instincts warring with everything she'd learned in the past few days. Her son was half-alien. Her husband was from a warrior race that had been wiped out by an intergalactic tyrant. Three of their friends were dead, and the only way to bring them back was to travel to another world.
"This isn't a game," she said, echoing Sage's own concerns. "This isn't some adventure story. You're talking about my son traveling across the galaxy to face... to face what? What kind of dangers are waiting out there?"
Sage met her gaze directly, and she saw the honesty in his eyes. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I know that without the Dragon Balls, Piccolo, Tien, and Chiaotzu stay dead forever. And I know that Gohan has power that could make the difference between success and failure."
"Then we'd better start training," Gohan said with the matter-of-fact determination that only children could muster. "How long do we have?"
Dr. Brief consulted his notes. "If we work around the clock, we could have a modified spacecraft ready in two weeks. But the journey itself could take months, depending on the distance to Namek."
"Two weeks," Chi-Chi repeated faintly. "Two weeks to prepare my five-year-old son for a journey to another planet."
"Then we train for two weeks," Sage decided. "But not like before. Not just building power or perfecting techniques. We train as a team. We learn to fight together, to trust each other completely. Because if we're going to survive what's coming, we need to be more than just strong—we need to be united."
Bulma nodded enthusiastically. "I can help with that. The gravity chamber designs I've been working on based on Saiyan technology—we could have one ready in a few days. Training under increased gravity could multiply the effectiveness of your preparation time."
"Gravity chamber?" Chi-Chi asked weakly.
"A training room that increases the gravitational pull," Bulma explained. "If they train under ten times Earth's gravity, their bodies will adapt to become much stronger much faster."
Chi-Chi looked around the tent at these people who were discussing her son's preparation for interplanetary travel as casually as they might discuss a camping trip. "This is insane," she said finally. "This is all completely insane."
"Yes," Sage agreed. "It is. But it's also our only chance."
The next few hours were a blur of planning and preparation. Dr. Brief and Bulma worked with feverish intensity to design their impossible spacecraft, combining Saiyan technology with human engineering. Krillin began basic physical therapy to prepare his injured body for the journey ahead.
Chi-Chi insisted on staying for the full two weeks, unwilling to let her son out of her sight before he departed for the stars. She watched with mixed emotions as Gohan threw himself into training with the focused intensity of a much older warrior.
"He's not a normal child, is he?" she asked Sage during a quiet moment outside the gravity chamber.
"No," Sage replied honestly. "But that's not necessarily a bad thing. His power, his determination—they're going to save lives, Chi-Chi. Maybe entire worlds."
"And what about his childhood?" she asked. "What about playing with toys and going to school and just... being five?"
Sage was quiet for a long moment. "I lost my childhood when Planet Vegeta was destroyed. I spent years alone, training obsessively, preparing for threats that might never come. I thought that made me strong." He paused, watching Gohan laugh at something Krillin said during their sparring session. "But Gohan... he's finding a way to be both. A child and a warrior. Innocent and powerful. Maybe that's what makes him stronger than either of us."
Inside the gravity chamber, Gohan was indeed proving to be remarkable. Under three times Earth's gravity—a conservative starting point that would have crushed most adults—he moved with surprising grace, his young body adapting quickly to the increased strain.
"This is incredible," Krillin panted, struggling to keep up with the child's movements. "You're not even winded!"
"It feels heavy," Gohan admitted, "but not impossible. Kind of like swimming underwater, but in the air."
Sage entered the chamber, his body immediately adjusting to the increased gravity. His years of isolated training had included experiments with weighted clothing and environmental challenges, though nothing quite like this.
"Alright," he said, settling into a teaching stance. "Let's work on combination attacks. If we're going to fight as a team, we need to understand each other's fighting styles perfectly."
What followed was two weeks of the most intensive training any of them had ever experienced. The gravity chamber pushed their bodies to new limits, while tactical sessions pushed their minds. They learned to anticipate each other's movements, to coordinate attacks, to cover each other's weaknesses.
Gohan's power grew at an astonishing rate. His Saiyan heritage, combined with his human emotional depth, created a warrior unlike anything Sage had ever encountered. The boy could channel rage into focused energy, but he could also fight with compassion, seeking to protect rather than destroy.
Krillin, despite his smaller power level, proved invaluable as a tactical coordinator. His years of martial arts training and battlefield experience made him the perfect liaison between Sage's analytical approach and Gohan's intuitive fighting style.
"You know," Krillin said during their final training session, "I think we might actually have a chance at this."
"A chance at what?" Gohan asked, floating in the air as he practiced energy control.
"At bringing them back," Krillin said simply. "Piccolo, Tien, Chiaotzu. At making this all mean something."
Sage felt something stirring in his chest—not the violent pride that had fueled his transformation, but something quieter and more sustainable. Purpose. For the first time since the battle ended, he had a clear objective that wasn't drowning in guilt or self-recrimination.
On the night before their departure, Chi-Chi insisted on one final family dinner. She cooked Goku's favorite foods, filling the temporary camp with the smells of home. Goku, still weak but determined to see them off, managed to sit up for the meal.
"I wish I could come with you," he said, his voice still strained but gaining strength.
"You need to recover," Sage told him. "And... we might need you to be ready when we get back. If we're bringing powerful Dragon Balls back to Earth, there might be others who want to take them from us."
It was as close as he could come to voicing his concerns about Frieza without causing panic. The destroyer of worlds was out there somewhere, and if he learned about the Dragon Balls...
But that was a bridge they'd cross when they came to it.
"Promise me you'll be careful," Chi-Chi said to her son, kneeling beside his chair. "Promise me you'll listen to Sage and Krillin, and that you'll come home safe."
"I promise, Mama," Gohan said, hugging her tightly. "And I promise I'll bring Mr. Piccolo back."
The next morning, they stood before their impossible spacecraft—a sleek fusion of Saiyan and human technology that Dr. Brief swore would carry them safely to Namek. The journey would take months, but the ship was equipped with everything they needed: food, water, training equipment, and most importantly, hope.
As they prepared to board, Sage took one last look at the scarred battlefield where so much had been lost and won. Somewhere in the depths of space, unimaginable dangers awaited them. But for the first time since landing on Earth all those years ago, he wasn't facing them alone.
"Ready?" he asked his companions.
Gohan nodded firmly. "Let's go bring our friends home."
They would bring their friends back.
No matter the cost.
The spacecraft lifted off into the morning sky, carrying three warriors toward their destiny among the stars. Behind them, the Earth grew smaller, but their determination only grew stronger.
The race for the Dragon Balls was about to begin.
Chapter 13: The Weight of Victory
The morning sun cast long shadows across the scarred battlefield. Three days had passed since Vegeta's escape, since the Prince of all Saiyans had claimed his final, spiteful victory even in defeat.
Sage sat motionless beside the crater where Piccolo had fallen. His wild black hair hung loose around his shoulders, violet eyes staring at the scorched earth. His transformation had long since faded, leaving him looking like what he truly was—a feral young warrior who had seen too much death.
The cruel irony hadn't escaped him. When Piccolo died, Kami had died as well. Earth's Dragon Balls had turned to stone the moment their creator's life force faded.
"You should eat something."
Bulma approached with a tray of food from the Capsule Corp supply drop. Her usual vibrancy was muted, replaced by hollow exhaustion.
Sage didn't respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"He saved Gohan's life. Used his own body as a shield."
"None of us were strong enough to stop that final attack," Krillin said, limping over with his arm in a sling. The small monk's face was etched with grief.
"Tien and Chiaotzu... they didn't even have a chance to react. One second they were there, the next..."
He couldn't finish the sentence. None of them could.
From the medical tent fifty yards away, they could hear Dr. Brief's concerned murmur as he monitored Goku's condition. The hero of Earth lay unconscious, his body still recovering from the devastating strain of Kaioken times five.
The sound of approaching footsteps made them all turn. Chi-Chi emerged from behind a rocky outcropping, her face pale with exhaustion. She'd been traveling for two days straight after receiving Bulma's emergency message.
"Where is he?" she asked, her voice cracking with emotion. "Where's my husband? Where's my son?"
Bulma stood quickly, intercepting Chi-Chi before she could see the full extent of the battlefield's devastation.
"They're both alive, Chi-Chi. Goku is in the medical tent, and Gohan is with him. But I need to prepare you for what you're about to see."
Chi-Chi's eyes darted frantically across the scarred landscape. The massive craters, the scorched earth, the lingering smell of ozone and burned metal.
"What happened here? Your message said there was a battle, but this... this looks like a war zone."
"It was," Sage said quietly, standing from his vigil. His movements were fluid, predatory, like a wild animal finally stirring to alertness.
"Two Saiyans came to Earth. They wanted to recruit Goku to help them destroy planets. When he refused..."
He gestured at the devastation around them.
"This was the result."
Chi-Chi's face went white.
"Saiyans? But Goku is—"
"A Saiyan too," Sage confirmed, his sharp eyes meeting her terrified gaze directly. "As am I. As is Gohan."
He paused, his voice taking on an edge of barely contained emotion.
"after goku's death we did everything we could in order to prepare for the worst but..... gohan also faught, he was the one who managed to defeat vegita when we could not....."
His voice trailed off as he looked back at the crater where Piccolo had fallen.
"The cost was three lives," Krillin finished heavily. "Piccolo, Tien, and Chiaotzu. They died protecting us, protecting the Earth."
Chi-Chi swayed on her feet, the enormity of it hitting her all at once. Her five-year-old son had fought alien warriors to save the planet. Her husband lay broken in a medical tent. Three of their friends were dead.
"I need to see them," she said, her voice gaining strength through sheer maternal determination. "I need to see my family."
Inside the medical tent, the reunion was both heartbreaking and beautiful. Chi-Chi knelt beside Goku's bed, her hands hovering over his bandaged form as if afraid to touch him and cause more damage.
Gohan sat cross-legged beside his father, his small hands folded in his lap as he maintained a vigil that broke everyone's hearts.
"Mama?" Gohan's voice was small, uncertain.
The confident warrior who had defeated Vegeta was gone, replaced by a traumatized child who had lost his mentor and protector.
Chi-Chi's composure finally cracked. She gathered her son into her arms, holding him close as tears streamed down her face.
"Oh, Gohan. My brave, brave boy. I'm so sorry I wasn't here."
"It's okay, Mama," Gohan whispered against her shoulder. "I protected Daddy, just like you taught me to. But Mr. Piccolo... he protected me, and now he's gone."
From the bed, Goku's eyes fluttered open. Despite his injuries, he managed a weak smile when he saw his wife.
"Chi-Chi... you came."
"Of course I came, you fool," she said, trying to sound angry but failing completely. "When Bulma's message said you were hurt, I dropped everything and ran... i still cant beleive your back..... and yet still your hurt"
She looked between her husband and son, seeing the pride in Goku's eyes and the exhaustion in Gohan's.
"What were you thinking, fighting aliens? What were you thinking, letting our son fight?"
"I would have stopped him," Goku said weakly. "But i um... was not present for the last year as you know Chi-Chi, you should have seen him. He was incredible. Strong and brave and... he saved everyone."
Her maternal instincts warred with the growing realization that her family was part of something far bigger than she'd ever imagined.
"Sage," came Goku's voice, addressing the young Saiyan who had remained at the tent's entrance like a watchful guardian. "Come here."
Sage approached with fluid, almost feline movements. His wild appearance and predatory grace made Chi-Chi instinctively tense, sage was still an anomaly to anyone besides the z fighters and a subject of caution.
Inside the tent, Goku's condition was even worse than Sage had imagined. The man who had arrived like a crimson comet looked fragile, mortal.
"I heard what happened," Goku said, his voice barely audible. "Piccolo... Tien... Chiaotzu..."
"If I had been stronger," Sage said, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken regret. "If I had pushed my transformation further, found more power—"
"Stop." Despite his weakness, Goku's voice carried absolute authority.
"I've made the same mistakes, blamed myself for deaths I couldn't prevent. We all did everything we could."
Chi-Chi studied this young man who claimed to be the same species as her husband and son. He was tall and lean, his spiky black hair was wild, almost mane-like. The red gi with its white sash made him look like a warrior monk, but his eyes held a feral intelligence'
"You're the one who taught my son to fight," she said. It wasn't a question.
Sage's tail swished behind him.
Sage met her gaze directly, his violet eyes holding depths of pain that reminded her of war veterans.
"I taught him techniques. I taught him about Saiyan heritage. But his courage, his determination to protect others—that came from you and Goku."
He paused, his voice softening slightly.
"I just helped him understand what he was capable of."
Gohan looked up from his mother's embrace, his young eyes bright with unshed tears.
"Mr. Piccolo said something before... before he..." The child's voice caught. "He said he was proud to fight beside daddy. Do you think he was proud of me too?"
The question hit Sage like a physical blow. Here was this child, this incredible boy who had saved them all, asking if the man who died protecting him was proud.
"Gohan," Sage said, kneeling beside the boy's chair. His movements were graceful, controlled, like a animal showing submission to a cub.
"Piccolo didn't just die protecting you. He chose to die protecting you. That's not something you do for someone you're not proud of."
He paused, the words strange on his tongue.
"That's something you do for someone you love like family."
Chi-Chi's eyes widened as she processed this. The green man who had saved her son, who had trained him to fight, had died protecting him. he was no stranger to her, she only knew him as the demon king before, now...
Bulma appeared in the tent doorway, her expression urgent but carefully controlled.
"Guys, you need to hear this. I've been analyzing the recordings from the scouters we salvaged, and I found something important."
She activated a small device, and Vegeta's voice filled the tent—a recording from the battle.
"...the Namekians created the Dragon Balls originally. That green freak was from Namek, which means somewhere out there, there's another set of Dragon Balls that could—"
Bulma cut off the recording.
"Don't you see? If Piccolo was from Namek, and the Namekians created the original Dragon Balls, then there might be another set on their home planet! We could bring everyone back!"
The tent fell silent except for the sound of Goku's labored breathing. Hope—an emotion none of them had dared feel for three days—began to flicker in their hearts.
Chi-Chi was the first to break the silence.
"You're talking about traveling to another planet. To an alien world. To bring back the dead."
Her voice wasn't accusatory, just stunned by the impossibility of it all.
"But how would we even get there?" Krillin asked, entering the tent with Dr. Brief. "It's not like we have a spaceship that can travel between planets."
"Actually," Dr. Brief said, consulting his notes, "we do. The Saiyan attack pods that Vegeta and his partner used—I've been studying them."
He adjusted his glasses, excitement building in his voice.
"With some modifications and Bulma's technical expertise, we could potentially reverse-engineer the navigation systems."
Sage's mind raced through the implications. His father's warnings about Frieza surfaced—fragments of memory about the destroyer of worlds, the tyrant who had wiped out their entire race. that man would surely be after the dragon balls if aware
But he kept those thoughts to himself. The others didn't need to know about that particular nightmare yet.
"The journey would be dangerous," Sage said carefully, his predatory instincts already assessing threats. "Traveling through space, landing on an alien world, finding the Dragon Balls among an entire planet's population..."
He paused, his sharp eyes scanning each face in the tent.
"And that's assuming the Namekians are friendly."
"They have to be," Gohan said with childlike certainty. "Mr. Piccolo was good. He was mean sometimes, but he was good. If he came from Namek, then the people there must be good too."
Chi-Chi looked at her son, seeing the determination in his young eyes.
"Gohan, you can't be serious about this. You're five years old. You can't travel to another planet."
"I'm not just five years old, Mama," Gohan said, and for a moment he sounded far older than his years. "I'm a Saiyan. And Saiyans protect their friends."
The words hit both adult Saiyans like lightning. Here was this half-human child, speaking truths about their heritage that neither had fully grasped.
Not the pride of conquest or the drive for battle, but the fundamental core of what it meant to be a warrior—protecting those who mattered.
Chi-Chi's face cycled through a dozen emotions—fear, pride, anger, resignation. Finally, she looked at her husband.
"Goku?" she asked quietly. "What do you think?"
Goku's response took several long moments. When he finally spoke, his voice was heavy with the weight of parenthood and leadership.
"I think... I think Gohan is right. About being a Saiyan, about protecting friends. But I also think he's still a child who needs guidance."
He paused, gathering strength for what he knew would be a difficult conversation.
"Chi-Chi, I can't go. Not for months, maybe longer. My body... it's going to take time to heal from what the Kaioken did to me."
His eyes moved to each of them in turn.
"But Gohan, Sage, Krillin... they're strong enough to make this journey. And they're going to need each other."
"The boy's right," Sage said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of hard-won wisdom. "And... he's probably stronger than I am, even without transforming."
His violet eyes flashed with predatory intensity.
"If we're going to face whatever's waiting on Namek, we'll need every advantage we can get."
Krillin cleared his throat.
"Count me in too. I can't let my friends stay dead because I was too scared to help."
Chi-Chi stood slowly, her maternal instincts warring with everything she'd learned in the past few days. Her son was half-alien. Her husband was from a warrior race that had been wiped out by an intergalactic tyrant.
"This isn't a game," she said, her voice carrying all the authority of concerned motherhood. "This isn't some adventure story. You're talking about my son traveling across the galaxy to face... what? What kind of dangers are waiting out there?"
Sage met her gaze directly, and she saw the brutal honesty in his eyes.
"I don't know," he admitted, his instincts recognizing the protective fury of a mother defending her young. "But I know that without the Dragon Balls, Piccolo, Tien, and Chiaotzu stay dead forever."
He paused, his voice gaining strength.
"And I know that Gohan has power that could make the difference between success and failure."
"Then we'd better start training," Gohan said with matter-of-fact determination. "How long do we have?"
Dr. Brief consulted his notes.
"If we work around the clock, we could have a modified spacecraft ready in two weeks. But the journey itself could take months, depending on the distance to Namek."
"Two weeks," Chi-Chi repeated faintly. "Two weeks to prepare my five-year-old son for a journey to another planet."
"Then we train for two weeks," Sage decided, his movements shifting into a combat-ready stance even while standing still. "But not like before. Not just building power or perfecting techniques."
His eyes blazed with violet intensity.
"We train as a team. We learn to fight together, to trust each other completely. Because if we're going to survive what's coming, we need to be more than just strong—we need to be united."
Bulma nodded enthusiastically.
"I can help with that. The gravity chamber designs I've been working on based on Saiyan technology—we could have one ready in a few days."
She pulled out technical schematics, her scientific mind engaged.
"Training under increased gravity could multiply the effectiveness of your preparation time."
"Gravity chamber?" Chi-Chi asked weakly.
"A training room that increases the gravitational pull," Bulma explained. "If they train under ten times Earth's gravity, their bodies will adapt to become much stronger much faster."
Chi-Chi looked around the tent at these people discussing her son's preparation for interplanetary travel as casually as they might discuss a camping trip.
"This is insane," she said finally. "This is all completely insane."
"Yes," Sage agreed, his predatory smile showing too many teeth. "It is. But it's also our only chance."
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The next few hours were a blur of planning and preparation. Dr. Brief and Bulma worked with feverish intensity to design their impossible spacecraft. Krillin began basic physical therapy to prepare his injured body for the journey ahead.
Chi-Chi insisted on staying for the full two weeks, unwilling to let her son out of her sight before he departed for the stars. She watched with mixed emotions as Gohan threw himself into training with focused intensity.
"He's not a normal child, is he?" she asked Sage during a quiet moment outside the gravity chamber.
Sage was performing slow, flowing movements—part martial arts kata, part stretching. His grace was hypnotic, dangerous.
"No," he replied honestly, not breaking his fluid rhythm. "But that's not necessarily a bad thing."
He paused mid-movement, his violet eyes meeting hers.
"His power, his determination—they're going to save lives, miss Chi-Chi. Maybe entire worlds."
"And what about his childhood?" she asked. "What about playing with toys and going to school and just... being five?"
Sage was quiet for a long moment, his movements resuming their hypnotic flow.
"I lost my childhood when Planet Vegeta was destroyed. I spent years alone, training obsessively, preparing for threats that might never come."
He paused, watching Gohan laugh at something Krillin said during their sparring session.
"But Gohan... he's finding a way to be both. A child and a warrior. Innocent and powerful. Maybe that's what makes him stronger than us."
Inside the gravity chamber, Gohan was indeed proving to be remarkable. Under three times Earth's gravity—a conservative starting point that would have crushed most adults—he moved with surprising grace.
"This is incredible," Krillin panted, struggling to keep up with the child's movements. "You're not even winded!"
"It feels heavy," Gohan admitted, "but not impossible. Kind of like swimming underwater, but in the air."
Sage entered the chamber, his body immediately adjusting to the increased gravity. His smile became even more pronounced under the additional strain, every movement economical but painfull.
"Alright," he said, settling into a teaching stance that looked more like a hunting crouch. "Let's work on combination attacks."
His violet eyes blazed with intensity.
"If we're going to fight as a team, we need to understand each other's fighting styles perfectly."
What followed was two weeks of the most intensive training any of them had ever experienced. The gravity chamber pushed their bodies to new limits, while tactical sessions pushed their minds.
They learned to anticipate each other's movements, to coordinate attacks, to cover each other's weaknesses.
Gohan's power grew at an astonishing rate. His Saiyan heritage, combined with his human emotional depth, created a warrior unlike anything Sage had ever encountered.
The boy could channel rage into focused energy, but he could also fight with compassion, seeking to protect rather than destroy.
Krillin, despite his smaller power level, proved invaluable as a tactical coordinator. His years of martial arts training and battlefield experience made him the perfect liaison between Sage's perfected and Gohan's intuitive fighting style.
"You know," Krillin said during their final training session, "I think we might actually have a chance at this."
"A chance at what?" Gohan asked, floating in the air as he practiced energy control.
"At bringing them back," Krillin said simply. "Piccolo, Tien, Chiaotzu. At making this all mean something."
Sage felt something stirring in his chest—not the violent pride that had fueled his transformation, but something quieter and more sustainable. Purpose.
For the first time since the battle ended, he had a clear objective that aligned with his protective instincts.
On the night before their departure, Chi-Chi insisted on one final family dinner. She cooked Goku's favorite foods, filling the temporary camp with the smells of home.
Goku, still weak but determined to see them off, managed to sit up for the meal.
"I wish I could come with you," he said, his voice still strained but gaining strength.
"You need to recover," Sage told him.
His tail twitched with barely contained energy
He paused, his violet eyes flashing with unspoken concerns.
"If we're bringing powerful Dragon Balls back to Earth, there might be others who want to take them from us."
It was as close as he could come to voicing his fears about Frieza without causing panic. The destroyer of worlds was out there somewhere, and if he learned about the Dragon Balls...
But that was a bridge they'd cross when they came to it.
"Promise me you'll be careful," Chi-Chi said to her son, kneeling beside his chair. "Promise me you'll listen to Sage and Krillin, and that you'll come home safe."
"I promise, Mama," Gohan said, hugging her tightly. "And I promise I'll bring Mr. Piccolo back."
The next morning, they stood before their impossible spacecraft—a sleek fusion of Saiyan and human technology that Dr. Brief swore would carry them safely to Namek.
The journey would take months, but the ship was equipped with everything they needed: food, water, training equipment, and most importantly, hope.
As they prepared to board, Sage took one last look at the scarred battlefield where so much had been lost and won. His predatory instincts were already focused on the hunt ahead—tracking down the Dragon Balls, facing whatever dangers awaited them.
Somewhere in the depths of space, unimaginable perils awaited them. But for the first time since landing on Earth all those years ago, he wasn't facing them alone.
"Ready?" he asked his companions, his voice carrying the confidence of a predator preparing for the ultimate hunt.
Gohan nodded firmly.
"Let's go bring our friends home."
They would bring their friends back.
No matter the cost.
The spacecraft lifted off into the morning sky, carrying three warriors toward their destiny among the stars. Behind them, the Earth grew smaller, but their determination only grew stronger.
The race for the Dragon Balls was about to begin.
Authors note: extra long chapter and the starting of the namek saga, hope you enjoyed it.